From the Glass Towers to the Downworld Estate
by Dream As I Read
Summary: The well-off students of Alicante "Glass Tower" Academy and the rougher kids of Alliance "Downworld High" Public School don't think that they have much in common. But they do- they are all just teens, some happy, some sad, some cherished, some lost, and all struggling to find their way in life. And hopefully, discover their own selves. AU.
1. Three Girls

**DISCLAIMER : ALL CHARACTERS, THEMES AND SETTINGS USED IN THIS STORY BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE, THE TRUE CREATOR AND OWNER OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS AND INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES. I OWN NOTHING THAT YOU RECOGNISE.**

Isabelle Lightwood smiled smugly as she tapped the piece of paper she'd just placed on the table in front of her two best friends, Clarissa Morgenstern and Cecily Herondale. "Take a look at that."

Cecily squinted at the leaflet, "Come one, come all. To all the lost souls out there, I invite you to the party of the year. A rocking good time awaits you, starting 9.00pm at the residence of MAGNUS BANE?!"

"Shhh," Isabelle hushed theatrically. "Announce it to the world, why don't you?"

Cecily frowned, "You're not planning to actually go, are you?"

"Course I am," Isabelle answered, tucking the leaflet back into her purse. "And so are you. Trust me, it's going to be awesome!"

Cecily protested, "But Izzy, it's a Downworld party!" She looked around the crowded cafeteria, then lowered her voice to a dramatic whisper, "Aren't you afraid someone will SEE you? Come on, Izzy!"

"Come on, Eelsy," Isabelle answered back, imitating her tone to perfection, "Loosen up a little, will you? I know this guy that goes to Alliance Public High School, and he's really hot. Like, seriously. And I bet he could score a couple of dates for you two. Trust me girls, have I ever led you wrong?"

"Frequently," Cecily drawled whereas Clarissa let out a sigh that sounded suspiciously like surrender. "The last time you said that, you blew up my bathroom."

Isabelle, smelling success, let out a sharp whoop of delight, "And do you remember how much fun we had that time? That's the spirit, Clary! We are so rocking this party scene!"

"Are you talking about that Downworld party on Saturday?"

Clary, Cecily and Isabelle glanced up as Aline Penhallow and Jessamine Lovelace, Isabelle's fellow cheerleaders joined them at their table.

"You bet I am," Isabelle said, greeting them with a grin. Clary just gave a small smile whereas Cecily was out and out glaring at them. She detested the two girls in front of her and their fake behavior. Aline and Jessamine were exactly the type of girls who would pretend to be your best friend and then stab you in the back immediately if it gave them any benefit. It was disgusting. She couldn't understand why Izzy liked them.

Meanwhile, Aline was smiling- smirking- at Isabelle. "Great, Jess and I were just going to go shop for some new outfits, you coming?"

"Um, don't you have class later?" Clary voiced timidly.

Jessamine sneered at her, "Oh, that's right, can't have any of us skipping class can you? Little Miss Goody. Angel forbid anyone actually have fun around here."

"Lay off, Jessamine," Cecily cut in angrily. "Don't act such a cow just because you're jealous Clary isn't some dirty little slut like you are."

Jessamine's cheeks flushed a dull red, "Whatever! I'm outta here!"

Aline got up too, "So you coming or what?"

Clary stared hopefully at Isabelle. She really hoped Izzy wouldn't cut class and go off with them. She knew Aline and Jessamine were bad news. They were reckless and irresponsible, and didn't care about anyone but themselves. Clary knew they were in for a rough fall one day. She just hoped they didn't drag Izzy, her best friend since preschool, with them.

Isabelle shot Clary a thoughtful glance, almost as if she knew what Clary was thinking. It wasn't necessarily a long stretch, seeing as they knew each other so well. She turned back to Aline, "Nah, thanks but no thanks, Aline. If I get caught, I'll be in so much trouble with my mom.. like you wouldn't believe. Catch you at practice?"

Aline rolled her eyes, "Yeah, whatever." As she walked away, Clary breathed a small huff of relief.

"Ooh, I hate that bitch," Cecily muttered as soon as Aline ws out of earshot.

"Mmm, Jessamine can be a pain sometimes," Isabelle admitted as she sipped at her drink.

"Not her," Cecily said disgustedly. "Though admittedly, I hate her too. I was talking about Aline Penhallow."

"She's not that bad," Isabelle mumbled, not really meeting their eyes.

Cecily snorted, "Right. She's downright evil, that girl. Did you hear what she did to Jem Carstairs?"

"No. What?" Clary asked curiously as Isabelle acted uninterested.

"She cheated on Jem. Messed around with another guy while he was getting treated for that sickness of his in London. Poor Jem. He's such a sweet guy. How could she do that to him? She doesn't deserve him," Cecily ripped up her napkin as she fumed.

"And I suppose you know someone who does?" Isabelle asked, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Cecily blushed light pink, "Shut up, Izzy. He's just sweet, that's all."

Isabelle grinned evilly, "And you just want to eat him all up, don't you, We all know you've got a penchant for the sweet desserts."

"Izzy!"

"Alright, Eeelsy. Sheesh, calm down. It's not like I'm going to rat you out or anything. I've kept Clary's crush on Jace a secret all this time and he's my brother's best friend. Obviously, I can be trusted with this."

Clary looked around nervously, "Izzy, keep your voice down."

Isabelle rolled her eyes, "Okay, okay. I won't say anything. I swear on the life of my cat."

Cecily giggled, "You don't have a cat, Izzy. Church Jr. belongs to Alec."

Isabelle stood up and gestured imperiously at her friends, "Enough talk. Let's go to class. And after that, we shall shop! When I'm done, you two will be the hottest girls at that party!"

Clary and Cecily shared a LOOK. At the same time, they both shook their heads in defeat. "Isabelle…"


	2. Party Planning

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS, THEMES AND SETTINGS USED IN THIS STORY BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE, THE TRUE CREATOR AND OWNER OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS AND INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES. I OWN NOTHING THAT YOU RECOGNISE.**

"And then, she said "I can replace Camille, Ms. Collins". So, I was like, "Puh-lease, as if you can do what I do, bitch". But then Collins fool of a woman actually said I should "give her a chance". I wanted to claw her eyes out right there and then. Ugh! Can you believe them?!"

Silence from the other side of the room. Camille Belcourt narrowed her eyes as she stared up at the ceiling of the room. She couldn't actually see him from her place of lying on the bed but she had a sneaky suspicion that her best friend was ignoring her. "Mag," she called out tentatively. Still no answer.

"Magnus Bane! Are you listening to me at all?!" Camille sat up indignantly and glared across the room at her best friend. He was carefully embroidering a long-sleeved top with sequins while still duly ignoring her.

"Mag," Camille whined, "Come on, I need you. Put down that insanely bedazzled shirt for just a second and listen to my woes, please?"

Magnus gave a long-suffering sigh. "I am listening, hon. I've got my eyes on this top and my ears faithfully dedicated to your ongoing monologue."

"Well, could you at least act a little interested?" Camille answered snottily, as she crossed her arms and legs together on the bed. "This is my life we're talking about, you know."

Magnus rolled his eyes, "Of course, Camille. It's infinitely important to the fate of the world that Maureen the mundie doesn't steal your spot as queen bee. See, I've been listening. Honestly, couldn't we talk about something else? You know Vampire politics bore me to tears."

Camille pouted, something which she could do extremely well. "Well, I'm sorry my problems bore you so much, Magnus. I thought you wouldn't mind listening to me since we're, you know, best friends since forever and stuff. But that's fine, it's okay. I guess you'd rather hang out with your clothes than me. So I'll just go."

She got up from the bed and gingerly made her way to the door. She swung it open theatrically, but didn't step out. "I'm going now," she called back. "Goodbye, cruel one whom I once called my friend. Perhaps, when you see my lifeless body you'll repent and feel guilty for forcing me away. Don't worry. I forgive you, Magnus, because you're my one and only best friend."

Magnus closed his eyes and counted to ten in his head. Honestly, dealing with Camille made him feel like a basket case. He definitely needed a day off from her constant whining. But if he let her leave now, he'd never hear the end of it. Sighing, he decided on a plan of action to avoid that, and set the shirt he was working on out-of-the-way.

"Firstly, Camille, where do you think you're going? This is _your_ room. Secondly, how the hell is my ignoring you going to end up with your lifeless body? And thirdly, "he paused, wrinkling his nose at her, "Why would _anyone_ pair _those_ shoes with _that_ bag?"

"The shoes are cute and you know it," Camille answered, leaning against the door.

"True," Magnus conceded. "Guess we're just going to have to ditch the bag then, because babe, no way are we going for a coffee with you dressed that atrociously. "

Camille gave a loud squeal, "Yay! My Maggie's back!"

* * *

Magnus was hardly listening as Camille latched onto his arm, all the while prattling on about some heinous plot Maureen what's-her-name had started against her.

As they slid into Camille's car, she suddenly took on a new tack. "Hey, Mags, you know that party you're throwing Saturday?"

"Hmm," Magnus answered absent-mindedly as he twiddled with the dials on the radio. "What about it?"

"Well, is it true that you invited Glass Tower kids?" Camille asked, studying his face intently.

Magnus shrugged his shoulders, an act which Camille correctly guessed as an affirmative. "Are you sure that's wise?" she murmured nervously. "You know how things are between the Glass Towers and our school."

Magnus shrugged again, "It'll be fine. It's not like I invited the entire school. Just a couple of guys. And besides," he grinned wickedly, "Can you imagine the look on de Quincy's face when he sees my special guests?"

Camille gave a shrill hoot of laughter, "Oh my god, Mags, you are SO evil! I can definitely see Alexei having an apoplectic fit when he sees the kids from Glass Towers. "

"Exactly. And what can he do about it? It's MY party."

"Yeah," Camille agreed, "I can't wait to tell Alexei where to shove it."

Magnus pretended shock, "Lord, honey, that kind of language isn't fit for a lady! What kind of riff-raff have you been hanging around with, my lady Belcourt?"

Camille sniffed, "None of your business. It's your own fault anyway. Always ignoring me and spending time with Ragnor instead. Anyone would think I wasn't your best friend!"

Magnus muffled a giggle at her uppity tone, completely at odds with the earlier coarseness. "Camille, darling, Ragnor's my cousin. And I live with him. It would be kind of hard not to spend time with him, wouldn't it?"

Camille just ignored him, but her own curiosity must have gotten the better of her as she turned back almost immediately and asked, "So who are the 'couple of guys' you invited? Please tell me it isn't that insufferable prat, Jonathan Morgenstern."

"Oh no, honey, I absolutely hate that fool. He acts all arrogant just because his daddy owns Circle Industries. Really!"

Camille tapped her fingers impatiently on the steering wheel, "So? Who is it? Tell me quick!"

Magnus smiled, winking at her as he answered, "Do you remember my telling you about a certain blue-haired black-eyed wonder?"

Camille nodded, "Yes, of course, your favourite combination."

Magnus leaned back in his seat, saying nothing else.

Camille gave a loud gasp, "You can't be serious?!" When Magnus didn't answer, she started bouncing up and down in her seat, "You are! You are serious! Oh my god, Mags. All you knew was his name! How did you even manage it?!"

Magnus studied his nails interestedly, "Nothing to it. A little bribery here, a tip there, and voilà! I got the invitation passed on to the guy of my dreams. And as for hardly knowing him, you can bet that's what I'll be doing at the party Saturday night."

"Mags, you're a genius!" Camille pronounced eagerly.

"I know," Magnus answered with a determined glint in his eye, "Come Saturday night, I'll definitely have my blue-eyed wonder. Get ready William Herondale, because the amazing Magnus Bane is on his way."


	3. Locker Room News

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS, THEMES AND SETTINGS USED IN THIS STORY BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE, THE TRUE CREATOR AND OWNER OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS AND INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES. I OWN NOTHING THAT YOU RECOGNISE.**

"Oh, Alec?"

Alec Lightwood, who was in the middle of tying his shoelaces, straightened up and shivered as he listened to Jace Herondale utter his name in that abominable sing-song tone. It was never the bearer of good news.

"What is it, Jace?" he muttered, trying to steel himself for whatever idiotic plot his best friend planned to drag him into. He hoped it wasn't another of Jace's let's-have-some-fun schemes that inevitably ended with either a random bar fight or the gold-haired wunderkind disappearing off to Angel-knows-where with some giggly bimbo while Alec was stuck cleaning up the mess. He'd definitely had enough of trying to cover for Jace when his best friend's extremely intimidating grandmother called to check up on him. It wasn't like Imogene Herondale tried to hide her disdain for her precious grandbaby's "less-than-adequate" Lightwood best friend.

Alec was dragged out of his gloomy thoughts by Jace's continuing words, "Let's have some fun." Of course he'd say that.

Instead of protesting, Alec decided to just go with it. That was generally how one dealt with Jace- humour him until he got bored. "What do you suggest?"

Before Jace could answer him, another much louder and equally whiny voice dragged their attention towards the door of the locker room. Alec wasn't surprised to see Will Herondale leaning against the door, pleading earnestly to his best friend, Jem Carstairs. Herondales. They always had to make a big deal of everything.

"Come on, Jem, m'boy, please do me the honour of attending this bash," Will said theatrically, gripping Jem's hand while batting his dark lashes in a way that was exceedingly uncomfortable to watch.

Alec caught Jem's eye and gave a sympathetic shrug. He too, was used to Jace acting out at inappropriate times. Though admittedly, compared to Will, Jace was in some ways more reasonable and tactful. Alec attributed it to Imogene's stern grandmotherly influence. The same influence obviously had no effect upon Will who, to be fair, was not really Imogene's grandson. He was, in fact, her nephew, a fact which Will continuously used to taunt Jace.

"Hey, William, will you take your gay declaration of love somewhere else? There are real men trying to have a conversation in here," Jace said with a laugh. Alec winced. Forget what he said earlier about Jace's tactfulness. The boy had no tact whatsoever.

Will merely turned a cold look on his younger relative, "Be quiet, Jacey. The adults are trying to speak. Now run along and play with your little friend. Your uncle is too busy for snotty-nosed children."

Jem rolled his eyes and cut in before Jace could put in a retort, "Will, quit it. I am not going to that party no matter what you say. And besides, why do you even want to go? I thought you weren't interested in Downworld parties?"

"I wasn't. But then I heard from someone that Downworld girls are really something. Good for a night of fun, if you know what I mean," said Will suggestively.

Jem made a face, "William, you are a blatant man-slut."

"What Downworld party are you talking about?" Jace asked, his curiosity winning over his annoyance at Will.

"A party at some guy called Magnus Bane's," Alec answered without really thinking about it.

Jace stared, and so did Will. It was rare that Alec knew about a party, especially when Jace didn't. Alec felt the blush fill his cheeks as he mumbled, "Izzy told me about it."

Will turned back to Jem, "See, even Alec's planning to go. You can't possibly back out now."

Alec shook his head, about to protest, when he caught the glint in Jace's eye. "We are so crashing that party."

Meanwhile, Will was still trying to convince Jem, "Please, Jem. It won't be any trouble to you, I swear. Have a little fun, eh?"

Jem shook his head at the same time Alec told Jace, "I am not going to that Downworld party."

Will and Jace shared a LOOK, and then turned to their best friends with the same determined expressions on their faces. They launched into the pleading and whining at the same time.

"You don't even have to stay long. You can just-"

"And think of all the pretty girls. I'll owe you-"

"ALRIGHT!" Alec and Jem bellowed at the same time.

Alec sighed. He should have known they wouldn't have been able to hold out against both Will AND Jace. He cursed himself for telling Jace about the party in the first place. If there was one thing Jace couldn't resist, it was forbidden activities in the Downworld Estate.

He should have just gone along with whatever idiotic plan Jace had come up with earlier. Anything was better than trying to blend into the wall at a party where he definitely wouldn't know anyone. And avoiding girls who just couldn't take 'no' for an answer.

Meanwhile, an unpleasant thought seemed to have occurred to Will. "If Isabelle knows about the party, then Cecily will too." He looked up in horror, "She can't go to a Downworld party!"

"And why can't she, if you are planning to go too?" The question came from Sebastian Verlac, another member of the school's all-star track team, along with Jace, Alec and Will.

Will shot a glare at him, "Because, she is my little sister, who is three years younger, and obviously needs protecting. Therefore, she should just stay at home and play dolls like a good little girl."

"William, you are being ridiculous," Jem started to say, but was cut off by another throaty laugh.

"Herondale," Jonathan Morgenstern, Sebastian's best friend, spoke up. "Don't you think that's a little too much?"

Will glared at him, "I take care of my sister my way. Clary will probably be going to this _illegal_ Downworld party too. What are you going to do about it?"

Jonathan gave an almost shark-like grin, "What Clarissa does is none of my business. She's old enough to be responsible for her own reputation, or otherwise." He slammed his locker shut and turned to Sebastian, "Are you coming or what?"

Sebastian shrugged, "I promised I'd meet Helen later."

Jonathan rolled his eyes and muttered, "Whipped." He made sure to bump into Jem as he strutted out of the locker room. Sebastian followed.

Will glared after the two of them, "Arrogant git. I hope he gets run over by a bus."

"William!"

"What? All it'll do is squash his ego. Hopefully." Will said innocently.

Jem shook his head but grinned as he turned and left the locker room. "Hey, wait up!" Will called after him as he haphazardly shoved his dirty clothes into a bag.

After they left, Alec and Jace were the only ones in the locker room.

"Hey, Alec?" Jace said in a serious tone.

"What?"

"I know what we're gonna do on Saturday!" Jace trilled in his sing-song voice.

Alec groaned, and muttered a silent prayer. _Please God, let _**me**_ be hit by a bus before Saturday. I _**really**_ don't want to go to that party._


	4. Nerd Boy

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS, THEMES AND SETTINGS USED IN THIS STORY BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE, THE TRUE CREATOR AND OWNER OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS AND INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES. I OWN NOTHING THAT YOU RECOGNISE.**

Simon Lewis slammed his locker shut then proceeded to glare at it. The smooth grey surface of the locker stared back at him. It was mocking him, laughing at him.

"You do know you're not Kryptonian right? That locker is not going to explode because of your laser vision," a dry voice stated from behind him.

Simon spun around and shifted his glare to the speaker, Maia Roberts, his closest friend at Alliance Public High School. She was leaning against the wall, her head tilted to one side as she smirked at him.

"Maia," Simon uttered the greeting grudgingly. He turned away from her and started heading down the corridor. The students milling around in the hallways stepped aside as he walked past. Simon would have liked to pretend it was due to his bad-ass reputation but he knew it was probably because of his new status as a Vampire. Damn Raphael.

"So grumpypants, what is it this time?" Maia asked as she fell into step beside him. Simon didn't look at her. Needless to say, that didn't deter Maia one bit.

"Come on Simon, tell Miss Roberts your troubles," Maia wheedled. Simon winced. She was obviously enjoying this. He still refused to speak. Maia knew perfectly well why he was angry.

Alliance Public High School was not like a normal high school. There were, for want of a better word, _cliques_ that existed here. The Big Four were namely Vampire, Werewolf, Faerie, and Warlock. Simon didn't know who had come up with the names. They sounded downright stupid.

Anyway, most of the students who enrolled at Alliance, popularly known as Downworld High after the Downworld Estate where the school was located, were sorted into the four groups. No official testing was actually done. The sorting was actually carried out by the senior members of each group, upperclassmen mostly.

Once sorted, the students mostly mingled within their own groups without much "interspecies" interaction. It wasn't strictly prohibited but it was taboo. There were exceptions, of course. Camille Belcourt and Magnus Bane got away with it because they were both leaders of the Vampires and Warlocks respectively. No one was reckless or stupid enough to tell_ them_ what to do.

Meanwhile, each group was known for something. The Vampires were 'royalty'. They very rarely mingled with anyone outside their group and utilised a regal bearing that most of the others called 'being snobs'. Their main rivals were the Werewolves, the second largest group, which consisted mainly of tough guys and athletes. Fay were eccentric, and in Simon's opinion, slightly creepy whereas not much was known about the Warlocks, the smallest and most mysterious group.

There was one extra minority group consisting of those who didn't quite fit in anywhere and hence were ignored during the selection process- mundanes. They were the outcasts and loners of the schools, usually passing through high school unnoticed.

Simon had quite contentedly been one of this minority up until recently when Raphael "I-insert-Spanish-words-into-everyday-conversation-to-make-myself-sound-sexy-but-actually-end-up-sounding-like-a-dumbass" Santiago forcibly recruited him as a Vampire.

It wasn't like Raphael actually wanted Simon to be a Vampire. He probably couldn't care less. He was just recruiting cronies to back him up when he tried for the umpteenth time to unseat Camille Belcourt from her place as 'queen' of the Vampires. But Simon refused to act like a mindless pawn. He wasn't deliriously grateful that Raphael had pulled him into the group. He was furious! But the one ironclad rule about entry into a group was that it wasn't optional. And there was no turning back. Okay, so there were two ironclad rules.

Bottom line, Simon was furious. And there was nothing Maia could say or he could do to fix it. But that didn't stop her from trying.

"Oh, Simon, won't you look at me? I wore my very best face today."

Simon stared incredulously at Maia, "Do you think unconnected gibberish is going to get me to talk to you?"

Maia smirked, "Well it worked, didn't it?"

Simon scowled, but with a little less potency this time. He was less mad, but still not ready to spend a lighthearted day with Maia. "So are you and Jordan on or off this week?"

Maia's grin morphed into a scowl that matched Simon's earlier expression. She hiked the strap of her bag higher up on her shoulder and turned away from Simon. "Don't speak to me about that dog," she mumbled viciously.

Simon shrugged. Maia and Jordan Kyle were both Werewolves, and the closest friends he had in this school. But the two of them took the term on-again off-again way too literally. Seriously, Simon had made a graph once to prove that the couple actually had a pattern in their break-ups and make-ups. It sounded funny, but really wasn't if you had to be the guy stuck in between.

As he contemplated this, the two of them reached the door to their next class- English. Maia entered without glancing at him and Simon wondered if he'd been insensitive to bring up Jordan when he knew there was a good chance that they'd be 'off-again'.

He slid into his desk next to Tessa Gray, a quiet girl who'd somehow managed to get recruited as a Warlock. She flashed Simon a small smile and leaned over, "Luke said we'd be discussing "A tale of Two Cities" today. It's my favourite book. I can't wait."

Simon gave a small smile in return. Tessa was a sweet girl, not exactly a close friend but they were on 'hi-in-the-hallways' terms. He found her to be a kind person with a warm greeting and nice words for everyone. She reminded him of his best friend, Clary, who was a student at Alicante Academy, the 'high-class' opposite of Downworld High.

Just then, Luke Graymark, their teacher stepped into the room. He was a friendly looking man with tired but twinkling eyes. His clothes were almost always scruffy and messy, and sometimes shabby-looking. He reminded Simon of Professor Remus Lupin from the Harry Potter books. One thing they certainly had in common was that Luke was an excellent teacher, and adored by most of his students. Those who didn't, Simon snidely dubbed as 'Slytherins' in his head.

Luke was actually Clary's stepfather, having married her mother Jocelyn after the Morgensterns' divorce when Clary was just seven. Personally, Simon thought that Luke was a much better father than Valentine Morgenstern, who hardly ever had time for Clary and her brother Jonathan. But he never said this in front of Clary who, he reasoned, was probably more attached to her biological father than to Luke, no matter how nice he was to her.

The lesson commenced without anything out of the ordinary and before he knew it, Simon was heading out the door to his next class. Just before he walked out the door, Luke grabbed him by the sleeve, "Simon, a word please."

Simon stared nervously at Luke's expressionless face as the last of the students trickled out the doorway. He knew he shouldn't have sneaked that look at his phone. He honestly thought Luke hadn't realized. Apparently, he had. "Is something wrong?"

Luke cracked a smile, causing Simon to let out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding. "Clary just asked me to pass along a message. She wondered if you were free to come around anytime. She feels like she hasn't seen you in ages. You know you're always welcome at our house."

Simon grinned, "Thanks. I'll give Clary a call, and I might just take you up on that offer."

As he headed towards the next class, Simon felt strangely lighter. The thought of seeing Clary always managed to make him feel better about everything. He almost forgot his unhappiness at being a Vampire. Almost.


	5. Best Friends

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS, THEMES AND SETTING USED IN THIS STORY BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE, THE TRUE CREATOR AND OWNER OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS AND INFERNAL DEVICE SERIES. I OWN NOTHING THAT YOU RECOGNISE.**

"Clare-bear, I'm bored," Cecily whined as she lounged on Clary's lavender bedspread. The two girls had gone back to Clary's house after school to study but eventually ended up chatting and snacking in Clary's room instead. Since Isabelle was still at cheerleading practice, the three musketeers were down to two amigos, and without Isabelle's boisterous influence, Cecily was quickly getting bored.

Clary grinned at Cecily as she reached for her sketchpad, "Hold still, Eelsey. I'm going to sketch you right now and this is the perfect angle."

Cecily snorted, "Perfect angle? You artsy types are always going on about things like that. It makes absolutely no sense to me. Besides, aren't you always sketching either Izzy or me? Why don't you find a nice boy to pose for you instead?"

Clary blushed lightly as she tapped a pencil against her sketchpad, "Eelsey."

Cecily sighed and closed her eyes, "Well, you should. All the boys at school would kill to pose for you. You really have no idea how attractive you really are, Clare."

"Yeah, everybody loves a stunted carrot," Clary muttered as she studied Cecily's fine features and high, arched cheekbones.

With her long, lustrous raven hair and bright violet-blue eyes, Cecily was what one could consider a typical beauty queen. Meanwhile, Isabelle was tall and willowy with ink-black hair and onyx eyes. Although it was true that Clary admired her two friends' looks and loved to capture their images on paper, she always felt like a short and disgusting troll next to both of them. This apparent inadequacy of hers was also constantly pointed out in snide remarks by girls like Jessamine Lovelace when her two best friends were not around and thus could not defend her.

In actual fact, Clary was by no means ugly. She was quite good-looking with bright red hair and emerald green eyes inherited from her mother. And it wasn't like she constantly dwelled on her looks. But still, for a shy and highly sensitive girl, it was hard to hear girls like Jessamine making disparaging remarks about the two princesses and their "pet dwarf".

A loud knock on her door quickly pulled Clary out of her thoughts. At the same time, Cecily, who had fallen asleep, suddenly jerked upwards into a sitting position.

"Well, this must have been some study session."

Clary grinned at her visitor. It was Simon, here for their weekly nerd-out, when they'd watch a bunch of Japanese anime and debate on the pros and cons of each one. Cecily, meanwhile, just glared at him, "Hey, geekboy, you woke me up."

Simon looked at her with a shocked expression, "They said it couldn't be done! But it seems that I have succeeded. I, Sir Simon Lewis, hereby declare that I have awakened the Snoring Beauty."

Clary stifled a laugh while Cecily gave a huff of indignation, "Oh hardy-har-har. We're all just completely in awe of your rapier wit."

"I try," Simon said, bowing with mock modesty.

Cecily got up, grabbing her backpack on the way to the door, "Alright, Clary, I'm going before your ultimate nerd cartoon-fest."

"I resent that," Simon declared. "They're called anime, not cartoons."

Cecily rolled her eyes and waved at Clary, not forgetting to stick her tongue out at Simon before going out the door.

"Ah, I've managed to chase off the beauteous Miss Herondale," Simon said with a tearful tone which quickly morphed into excitement as he turned to Clary, "So, what shall we start with? Two seasons of 'School Rumble'? Or would you rather watch that creepy 'xxxHolic' again?"

After a short debate, Simon popped in the DVD and Clary relaxed into her pillows as the opening theme to 'xxxHolic' filled her room.

"So, you got any plans for the weekend?" Simon asked conversationally, stealing a cookie from the bag on the floor between their beanbag chairs.

Clary nodded, "Isabelle is taking Eelsey and me to a Downworld party."

"Hmmm, the mysterious Isabelle," Simon mused, then looked at Clary with wide eyes, "Wait, you don't mean Magnus Bane's party?"

"Uh-huh. Are you going?"

Simon shook his head, "Wasn't planning to. But I might go just to keep you company."

Clary grinned, "You should totally go. Then I could finally introduce you to Izzy. I still can't believe you guys haven't met yet. You're my best guy friend and she's my best girl friend. It's mandatory that you meet each other."

Simon yawned then took the opportunity to shove three cookies into his mouth at once. "Whatever, you say, Fray. Your plans for our epic meeting didn't work out the last five times you planned it either. Honestly, I'm starting to think this Isabelle of yours is avoiding meeting me on purpose."

"Don't call me Fray," Clary stated firmly, grabbing the stuffed teddy bear with a frayed ear from which the nickname was gleaned, and tossing it at Simon. "And no, Izzy is not avoiding you. You guys just both have really bad timing. She had to go on vacation to the Maldives when I asked her to the comic convention, remember. And before that, your band had a gig the night I invited you to come with us for that rock concert. And before that-"

"Okay, I get the picture," Simon muttered, sitting the teddy bear on his lap. "Why are you so keyed up for this party anyway? I don't recall you ever expressing a love for partying late into the night at a Downworlder's late-night rave."

Clary shrugged, avoiding his eyes, "No particular reason."

Simon stared at her for a second then decided to try another tack. "So Jocelyn is okay with you going to this party?" Clary's mother was notoriously overprotective. It was hard to imagine she'd say yes to a party in the 'rough' Downworld Estate.

"I'm staying at my father's for the weekend. Valentine won't even notice I'm gone," Clary said in quiet voice that made Simon wince. He knew her father's lack of caring was a  
sore spot for Clary.

"Right. And Isabelle is picking you up from there?" Simon couldn't help asking; still trying to figure out what Clary was hiding from him.

Clary sighed, a sigh of surrender, and her next words were so light Simon had to strain his ears to hear them. "I asked Jonathan for a ride."

Simon didn't say anything. He now understood the real reason Clary wanted to go to this party even though she wasn't exactly a social type of girl.

Clary's parents had gotten divorced when she was seven, but their marriage had been crumbling way before that, probably since before Clary was born. The reason for that was something only the adults would know, and both refused to talk about it with their children. Clary ended up with her mother and Jonathan being the older son, went to live with his father.

And that was when Clary's problem started. Before the divorce, Jonathan had been responsible for Clary. He was the one who played with her, listened to her woes and cheered her up when she was feeling down. Whenever their parents argued, Jonathan was the one who comforted Clary and assured her that everything was going to be fine. Because of this, Clary truly depended on her brother for a lot of things. He became her protector, and she was perfectly content to let her brother make every decision in her life.

After the divorce however, Jocelyn took Clary and moved to Japan for a full year and a half. Jocelyn just wanted to get away from everything but she never considered the effect of their move on Clary. In that year, Clary had no way of contact with either her brother or her father. She could have cared less about not getting to see Valentine, but the absence of her big brother she felt deeply. As a result of being separated from her brother, Clary grew tougher and more independent. She sometimes even took on the responsibility of caring for her mother, which was all in all a good thing.

When Jocelyn and Clary finally returned to America, she was nine going on ten. Clary couldn't wait to reunite with her brother. She was sure that Jonathan must have missed her as much as she did him. But she was in for a shock. The kind and loving brother she had left behind was slowly growing into a cool and aloof teenager. He no longer seemed to care about Clary or wanted to know about her life.

Clary was devastated. She didn't even have anyone to share her troubles with. Her mother was out. Jocelyn would have tried to make Jonathan pay attention to her, and Clary didn't want her brother to think her a spoilt brat. Isabelle and Cecily, neither of whom was as close to their brothers as Clary was to Jonathan, would not have understood.

It was at this time that she met Simon, at some art class that her mother had sent her to for the summer. He was geeky and awkward but he was also nice. He shared Clary's passion for comic books and Japanese culture, and this made them firm friends. He was her first friend outside of Cecily and Isabelle, and Clary found herself telling him things about her life that she even kept secret from her two best friends.

That was how Simon learnt about Clary's trouble with Jonathan. Although he could do nothing to help, Simon realized that what Clary needed was just someone to listen to her problems. So he did.

But as he listened, Simon also read between the lines of everything that Clary was telling him. And so he could tell whenever Clary did something especially reckless just to catch her brother's attention. For example, going to an illegal Downworld party.

Simon said nothing, watching as Clary put another cookie into her mouth. He knew there was nothing he could say to stop her once Clary had made up her mind. But he could try to watch out for her. Then and there, Simon resolved to go to that party to keep an eye on Clary. After all, he mused, _someone_ had to.

He only hoped that she wouldn't get into _too much_ trouble.


	6. The Herondales

**DISCLAIMER: ALL CHARACTERS, THEMES AND SETTINGS USED IN THIS STORY BELONG TO CASSANDRA CLARE, THE TRUE CREATOR AND OWNER OF THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS AND INFERNAL DEVICES SERIES. I OWN NOTHING THAT YOU RECOGNISE.**

"What are you doing?"

At the sound of Jace's voice coming from behind him, Will jumped up slightly and had to snatch at the railing to avoid falling from the top of the curved staircase where he had been pacing, waiting for Cecily to return from her study date at Clary's.

"Jace, what the deuce do you think you're doing sneaking up behind me like that?! I could easily have tripped and fallen down there!"

Jace shot his uncle a bemused grin, "Will, you're the one sneaking around the top of the staircase like some freaky stalker waiting for his next victim."

Will straightened up, stuffing his hands into his pockets, "I was merely awaiting Cecily's return. I need to have a few words with her."

"Oooh, words," Jace said tauntingly before lowering his voice to a whisper, "About the Downworlder party?"

Before Will could answer, both the boys heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. "Aha!" Will called, starting to jog down the stairs. "Cecily!"

Jace stared after him with a considering expression then proceeded to slide down the banisters of the staircase. When he finally jumped off the end of the banister however, the scene that awaited him was not of Will and Cecily, instead it was a stern-looking Imogene Herondale waiting for him with her hands on her hips.

"Jace, what have I told you about sliding on the banisters?" she asked threateningly.

Jace grinned sheepishly at his grandmother, "Not in front of the guests?" He then jumped forward and kissed Imogene on the cheek. "Missed you Nana. I'm glad you're home."

Imogene's expression did not change but Jace, being the experienced grandson that he was, detected the telltale softening of her eyes. "You're only glad I'm home because you're starting to get hungry, you greedy little pig," Imogene scoffed.

"Not true!" Jace protested loudly. "But it is almost time for dinner," he added with a cheeky grin.

Imogene shook her head, "Alright then. Off with you. And make sure William keeps out of my kitchen. I won't be able to concentrate with that monkey around. I'll ring the bell when dinner's ready."

"Alright!" Jace called, already heading for the living room.

There, he found Cecily lounging on the couch with the television turned on and a carton of ice-cream sitting on her lap. Jace fell down next to her and proceeded to steal a scoop of ice-cream, "Hey, Eels."

"Jace!" Cecily said, moving the ice-cream out of reach. "Don't be disgusting."

"Sorry," Jace mumbled with his mouth full. "By the way, did you know William is looking for you? He wants to have _words_."

Cecily aimed the remote at the television, "I got back an hour ago. You and I both know that as long as you don't rat me out, William won't think to come in here until it's time for dinner."

"Indeed," Jace agreed, "But how will you avoid the amazing nagging machine _after _dinner?"

"I'm working on that," Cecily muttered, as she swirled the caramel contents of the ice-cream carton with one long index finger.

Jace made a face, "And you said I'm disgusting." He looked thoughtfully at Cecily for a moment. "You know, Eelsey. Will only nags because he cares. He wouldn't, otherwise."

Cecily snorted and opened her mouth to retort but seemed to think better of it. She placed her index finger in her mouth and sucked at the end of it then sighed, "I know, Jace. And I'm glad that he cares about me so much. It's a far cry from how he used to be. But it's starting to get irritating."

"How so?" Jace asked with a bitter tone. "How is having a brother who cares enough about you that he wants to protect you, an irritation? How is having someone who loves you and is willing to spend time with you, an annoyance?"

Cecily shot him a dark look. "I know what you're hinting at, Jace Herondale. But you just don't get it. Every little thing I do Will is right there analyzing and judging whether or not I'm _allowed _to do it? That is just such bullshit!"

Cecily's voice started to rise with anger and frustration. She swiped at the moisture that was starting in her eyes, "No one ever bossed him around! He was always allowed to do whatever he wanted! And that's exactly what he did! The great William Herondale never had someone trying to second guess his every move and say he wasn't allowed to do something! Ella never-"

Her voice suddenly cut off and Jace turned to see Will hovering by the doorway. His expression was pained. Cecily meanwhile was staring at him with her mouth half-open and her finger pointing at the ceiling. It would have been comical had it not been such a serious situation.

"Maybe if someone had been more controlling of me, I wouldn't have taken the bone-headed move I did. And Ella would have been home with us tonight," Will said quietly before turning and walking out of the room.

Cecily stared after him, unsure what to do. Jace gave a long, low whistle, "Well, Eels, how are you going to fix this one?"

* * *

Will sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window at the large garden of the Herondale home. Theirs was a new-age bungalow, not as large as the Herondale grounds and manor back in London, but it was certainly big enough to accommodate Imogene, Celine, Jace, Cecily and himself.

Once upon a time, Ella, his older sister, and both of their parents had also lived here.

Ella Herondale had been a beautiful and talented girl, the apple of her parent's eyes. She was always cheerful, always smiling, and always up for a good joke. Only two years older than Will, Ella constantly indulged her brother in every way. Will would be the one to come up with ideas of things to do and Ella would gamely go along with it. As their parents allowed them to do whatever they wished, the two siblings often got into sticky situations.

As they grew older, Will became more reckless, always itching to try new and exciting games. Games that steadily became more and more dangerous…

In the summer of his twelfth year, Will had been at home for nearly the entire holiday. Jem had gone to England for yet another of his treatments, and Jace and Imogene were accompanying Celine on a visit to the mountains as per doctor's orders. It had originally been the plan for Ella, Will and Cecily to visit a beachside resort with their mother while Edmund Herondale stayed behind to attend to business.

However, due to certain indiscretions committed by Will, he was not allowed to go. Ella, pitying her brother's plight, had decided to stay home with him. This left two boisterous and mischievous children in the charge of one extremely absent-minded father. It was not a good combination.

One afternoon, Will had snuck into the garage where Edmund kept his collection of motorcycles. Edmund had been quite keen on them in his youth but no longer rode the motorcycles after settling down with a family. Back then, the motorcycles which sat idly collecting dust in their forgotten garage had seemed like a siren song calling to Will for him to liberate them.

Ella had been uncertain. She knew it was dangerous and in some way, so did Will. He just refused to care. He had been forced to stay home from a holiday and thought of the rebellious act of taking the motorcycle as a form of retribution. After much wheedling and whining on Will's part, Ella had finally agreed to ride on the back of the motorcycle with him.

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could hardly bear to remember what had happened next. The accident. All the blood. And Ella's screams of pain and fear. It had all been his fault, his own most grievous fault. (1)

A knock on his door pulled Will out of his horrific memories. He looked up and met Cecily's apologetic gaze. "William."

Will said nothing, looking intently at his younger sister. With her long black hair and pretty blue eyes, Cecily looked so much like Ella had. He could almost imagine it was his older sister standing there, calling him to dinner. But it was not. Ella would never appear in front of him again. And he blamed himself for it.

Cecily took a deep breath, "Okay, Will. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have said any of that stuff. I know that. I know you're only looking out for me because you care. And I'm sorry I hurt you."

Her voice became stronger, "But I'm not Ella." Will flinched, but Cecily continued on mercilessly. "I need you to understand that I'm my own person. I don't need you to hover around me all the time. I can take care of myself, William."

Still, Will said nothing. He wasn't sure he could speak even if he had wanted to.

Cecily sighed as she moved closer to her brother then knelt down and enveloped him in a hug, "Trust me, Will. You don't have to worry. And if I ever really need your help, I promise I'll ask for it. Okay?"

Inhaling the scent of her shampoo, Will gave a weak nod. _I'm sorry, Ella. I'm so sorry. I promise I'll take care of Cecily. I will never hurt her like I did you. I'm sorry._

* * *

Jace watched over Celine as she slept. "Cecily and Will had another fight today, Mom."

"Because Eels wanted to go to a party and Will wouldn't let her. Isn't that a dumb reason to get into a fight? Yeah, I think so too.

They made up in the end though. I'm glad. Sometimes those two are just such idiots. They just don't know how to appreciate the people who are standing right in front of them.

On the way home from school today, Alec tripped and fell on the sidewalk. I guess I must be a pretty shitty friend for laughing instead of trying to help but it really was funny. And I did help him up after. Alec didn't mind my laughing. He's a good friend, mom. A really good guy. You'd like him a lot.

Grandma made casserole for dinner. You remember how I used to hate that? Well, not anymore. Remember I told you that I spent the weekend at Alec's house last summer? His family is nice. Especially his cute little brother Max. But his sister Izzy is a terrible cook. I swear I almost got poisoned! I'll never complain about Grandma's cooking again.

Anyway, I got an A in my Biology test today. I know you like to hear about things like that. I'm really busy with all my clubs and stuff but I'm still making good grades in all my classes. So don't worry. I want you to be proud of me, Mom. And Grandma too."

Jace paused and sighed, sweeping a lock of hair away from his mother's cheek. "I wish we could have these conversations when you're awake, Mom. I wish I could be sure that you're listening and that you understand what I'm telling you."

"It's alright though. If I tell you things when you're asleep, I get a feeling that you can listen to them without all the distractions. Is that right, Mom? I hope it is. I hope you can really get some peace when you sleep. Angel knows I can't get any with Will and Eels around."

Jace laughed softly then kissed his mother on the cheek, "That's all for tonight, I guess. I'm going to bed now. Sleep well. I'll come see you in the morning before I leave for school. I promise, okay?"

Jace got up and opened the door. At the last second he turned and whispered to the prone figure on the bed, "Love you, mom."

The only reply was the soft click of the closing door.

**(1) mea culpa, mea maxima culpa...recognise the reference? ;)**


	7. A Brother's Thoughts

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE CHARACTERS USED IN THIS STORY. THEY ARE BORROWED FROM THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS SERIES AND BELONG TO THE AUTHOR OF THAT SERIES, CASSANDRA CLARE. I EARN NOTHING FROM THE CREATION OF THIS STORY.**

Jonathan is careful to make as little noise as possible when he enters the house at two in the morning and starts creeping stealthily towards the stairs. It isn't because he's actually afraid of bothering anybody with the noise. He just doesn't want his father's girlfriend to hear him and come sniffing around.

Jonathan doesn't really have any legitimate reasons to dislike Satrina Kendall. After all, for all her bitchiness with his sister, the woman has actually been quite pleasant towards him. And yet there's just something so irritating about Satrina's artificial sweetness whenever she's in his presence that has him perpetually on edge.

He knows she's deluded herself into thinking that she's some sort of mother to him. That could be because she's one of his father's more constant girlfriends. She's definitely more tenacious in holding on to the relationship than any of the other women that have dated his father. But Jonathan has only ever had one mother. And the way _that_ arrangement ended, he definitely doesn't need another any time soon.

Luck just does not seem to be on his side tonight though. As he's creeping his way along the corridor to his room, he hears a door swing open behind him. Swearing under his breath, he pivots on his heel, expecting to see Satrina leaning against the wall with one of her trademark smirks. A string of excuses run through his head before Jonathan realizes that it's just Clary.

He feels the familiar sneer sliding onto his face as he faces his sister and is just about to let loose with one of his especially reserved for her insults when he finally catches the look on Clary's face. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she's sniffling loudly as if trying to hold back sobs. A stab of worry cuts through him and Jonathan almost tries to comfort her before he can stop himself. Instead, he just flashes his younger sister a disdainful look before heading back in the direction of his own room.

On his way back, he allows himself one moment of pity for Clary. Contrary to popular belief caused by his cold behavior towards her, Jonathan actually does care about his little sister. He'd always been protective over Clary, taking his role as an older brother extremely seriously. He remembered back when their family was still whole, he and Clary had been constant companions. He was the leader of course, the one to come up with fun and exciting ideas. Clary was content to follow her brother in whatever game took his fancy. Once, Jocelyn had just barely managed to rescue Clary before her older brother shut her in the washing machine for a 'ride'.

Theirs had been the type of relationship only heard about in stories. Jonathan loved and protected his sister, offering comfort when she was ill or afraid. And Clary in turn worshiped and adored Jonathan. She was always willing to defend him, turning on the charm to prevent their parents from punishing him for their more daring activities. Hence, the washing machine incident resulted in nothing more than a stern talking-to from Jocelyn.

Then the divorce happened and everything changed. Jonathan remembered coming home from school and finding the living room in a mess, the result of his father's fury. He had been sent away to his grandmother's with no explanation. For days he wondered about the whereabouts of his mother and worried about little Clary. Where had they gone?

Finally, his grandmother had been the one to tell him the horrible truth. That his mother no longer wished to be part of their family and had fled the country, taking Clary with her. Jonathan could barely make sense of his emotions. Why had his mother given up on their family? Deep down, he realized his father's controlling behavior was a major factor. Even so, how could his mother have abandoned him? Why had she fled only with Clary? Was it because he, her own son, wasn't good enough for her? The questions ran around in his mind with no possible answer.

The days passed and turned into weeks. The weeks passed and became months. The months finally turned into years. Jonathan's questions were never answered and he learned to live in an environment absent of care and a mother's love, having to content himself with a curt and seemingly uncaring father. He convinced himself that he didn't care.

He was Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern and he needed nothing from anyone. He excelled both in school and at sports, earning himself the respect of his tutors and peers. But everyone who met the charming boy agreed that there always seemed to be something _off _about him.

Jonathan was not oblivious their gossip. Still, what did he care? He had spent the years in the absence of his mother and younger sister tirelessly crafting a suit of armor around him. One that gave off the air of independence yet never allowed anyone to come close enough to his heart. So that no one could ever hurt him as much as his mother leaving had.

And then _they_ had breezed back into his life. His mother, warm and compassionate, was acting as if she had never left. As if she had never abandoned him to grow up alone. And his sister, Clary was just as adoring of him as ever. She still looked at him with those shining eyes of hers, as if he were her personal knight in shining armor that could protect her from any danger.

Well, they could pretend that everything was fine and dandy. But he couldn't. Jonathan had changed and he couldn't go back to the way things were. He ignored his mother, rebuffing her attempts to speak to him or learn about his life. His father was perfectly fine with all this; in fact, Jonathan suspected that his coldness towards his mother pleased the man. As if his treatment of her proved what his father never said aloud; that this was the price you had to pay for leaving the Morgenstern family.

As for Clary, Jonathan paid her no attention. He was cold to her, sometimes even cruel. He had no idea how to face his sister, the person he had once loved the most in the entire world. That love had changed, been tainted by the knowledge that Jocelyn had chosen her daughter over her son. He could never forgive her for being the child that his mother favored over him, the one thing his mother had been unable to leave behind when she abandoned their family… abandoned him.

And that was the reason why, even now when he knew the fact that Clary had just had a nightmare, even when he knew the exact same images that had tormented his sister and interrupted her sleep since she was just a child, Jonathan could not go to her. Nor could he offer her the comfort she needed. Although his heart ached with the need to protect his little sister, he would not allow himself to care for her. He would not allow himself to be hurt again.

Now, with those torturous memories running through his head once again, Jonathan slips under the covers in his room without even undressing and tries to get some sleep. At least then he can escape from these horrendous emotions.

* * *

The orange sunset streaming in the windows is the first thing he sees when he awakes. Once again, Jonathan has slept through the entire day. He glances at the clock on his bedside table and swears when he sees that it's almost 6.30p.m. If he doesn't hurry, he'll be late picking up Seb and Helen for the Downworld party.

Half an hour and a really hot shower later, Jonathan is padding back to his room to get his car keys when the sound of rustling papers leads him to his father's office. The door is ajar and Jonathan can just make out Satrina's back. She seems to be looking for something among his father's documents.

"Come on, where does he hide it?" she hisses as more papers fall to the floor from the table.

Jonathan isn't quite sure what to do. Should he return to his room and pretend nothing happened? But he is curious as to what Satrina is searching for. Should he make himself known? But that would end in a conversation with his irritating stepmom-of-sorts. In the end, the decision is taken away from him when Satrina turns and sees him hovering by the door.

"Jonathan," she says brightly, her specially-whitened teeth gleaming in a wide grin. "I was just looking for, er, well, something. " The lie is unconvincing but Jonathan doesn't have time to puzzle over it. Better to just get out while he has the chance.

Satrina catches him before he has the chance. "So, are you going out tonight? You must be, a big handsome boy like you. Why, when I was your age, I would have positively swooned if I met a guy like you!" She looks close to swooning right now.

Jonathan grimaces then mutters something about being late. Satrina isn't about to let him go so easily though. She follows him to his room, leaning on the door and chatting about this and that as Jonathan awkwardly gathers his belongings. He is just about to give up when salvation arrives in the form of Clarissa Morgenstern.

Clary hovers behind Satrina uncertainly, but Jonathan will take any chance he can get. He brushes past Satrina and heads for the stairs, "Gotta go, Satrina. Clary and I are late." He catches the disdainful expression Satrina casts at Clary and is temporarily horrified to realize that it's one he's worn before. But there's no time for stunned epiphanies.

"Are you coming or what?" Clary jumps a little at the sound of his voice but gives a meek nod and follows him down the stairs.

Once safely in the car, Jonathan exhales with relief. "Bitch," he mumbles under his breath and is surprised when Clary laughs in reply to his comment. He studies his sister closely, taking in her appearance.

Clary has obviously cleaned up well. She is wearing an emerald dress with a flared skirt that stops at the knee. Her curly red hair, so like their mother's, is caught up in a single plait down her back. And the minimal amount of make-up she is wearing only serves to draw attention to her striking green eyes.

Clary notices him staring. "What?" she asks tentatively. "Have I got something on my face?"

Jonathan shrugs, "You look nice."

His little sister blushes with pleasure at the compliment and Jonathan isn't able to stop a sudden outpouring of love for her. He wishes things could go back to the way they were before. But his own serious expression in the rear-view mirror reminds him that no, things can't be the same.

And so he keeps his mouth shut and they drive in silence until they get to Sebastian's house, where Jonathan makes Clary move to sit in the back seat with Helen, and he engages Seb in a conversation about their upcoming game, all the while keeping an eye on his (still secretly adored) little sister.

* * *

**AUTHORS NOTE: SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. I STARTED THIS STORY DURING THE HOLIDAYS WHEN THERE WAS PLENTY OF TIME TO UPDATE BUT THEN EVERYDAY LIFE CAUGHT UP WITH ME :( UNFORTUNATELY, THIS ERRATIC SCHEDULE WILL PROBABLY LAST UNTIL THE END OF THE YEAR. TO ALL THE READERS WHO HAVEN'T GIVEN UP ON THIS STORY, THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT. YOUR PATIENCE WILL BE REWARDED AS SOON AS I GET TIME FOR A BREATHER. FOR NOW, PLEASE ENJOY.**


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